Dream by the Shadows (Shadow Weaver Duology Book 1)

Norhavellis was more alive than it had been in months.

No, years .

Doors flung wide on their hinges, opened by villagers clamoring to get the best possible vantage point. They gathered as entire households, and they were furious . It was impossible to ignore the teeth, the stench, the snarls. Teeth gleaming within dirty faces. The smell of mud and rotting things. The growls. The curses.

Villagers spit at Mother and Father as we passed, not entirely ignoring Elliot and I, and hurled fistfuls of dirt and stone through the air, pelting our skin and soiling our clothes. Legionnaires surrounded us as we moved, but the crowd surged against them regardless, worming their bodies forward.

“Devil worshippers!” an old woman cried, barreling her fists against a legionnaire’s raised shield. He pushed her away, but she persisted. “Rot in Hell with the Shadow Bringer!”

“Damn you, Absolvers!” howled another, holding up the remnants of a little girl’s tattered dress. “Damn you all! You killed her!”

“Heretics!”

“Murderers !”

Anger and shame burned in my stomach. Anger at the accusations. Shame at the sea of bitter, disgusted faces. Anger at not knowing. Shame at what little I did . They accused Mother and Father of selling weakened, watered-down elixir to the people of Norhavellis, causing them to fall into Corruption at an unnatural pace.

What was it, then? A lie or the truth?

Elliot’s face, dirty and tear-streaked, was tucked tightly against his shoulder. It was clear he couldn’t believe that Mother or Father would betray anyone, let alone the entire village of our birthright.

I felt sick to my stomach.

What did I believe? What could I believe?

By the time we reached the torch-lined clearing of our home, the sky was dark and the air had chilled, creeping in from the depths of the lengthening shadows. The commander motioned for the torches to be lit, and the flames—more red than usual—sparked crimson light into the space. Some legionnaires entered into our storehouse, dragging out sealed boxes of elixir, medical supplies, and burlap bags filled with seed; others ransacked our home, pulling out vials of elixir, books, furniture—there appeared to be no order to their selection—and began sorting through it, burning some items and packing away others.

The commander walked over to our family, a hand resting firmly atop the sword at his side. The glow of the torchlight made his mask gleam red. “We have confiscated your elixir supply,” he said. “The Light Legion will monitor you tonight; tomorrow you will stand trial.” He looked at Elliot, then settled his gaze on me. “Though we have not yet decided your fates.”

“So, we are damned,” Father said. It was a simple statement, not directed at anyone or anything other than the dirt at his feet.

The commander shook his head. “It is a pity—truly—that someone in your station could be filled with such wickedness.” He shook his head again, slowly stepping around us. Even off his horse, the man exuded power and something else. Something I couldn’t give words to.

Something not of this cold, dark world.

“Lower and unveil them.”

They shoved Father and Mother to their knees. Legionnaires heaved over a trough of sloshing barn water, groaning under the weight of the particle-filled liquid, and dropped it with a heavy thump atop the grass. Then they knotted their fingers in my parent’s hair and shoved their heads under the surface.

Mother and Father thrashed. Violently.

The men worked meticulously, washing and peeling away their skin. Only—no, it was not skin at all. It was concealment .

“No,” I said, absently. I didn’t even realize I was speaking. “No. No, no —”

Dark bruises marred the delicate skin under my mother’s beautiful blue eyes, a mirror to Eden’s. Veiny black threads intertwined with the wrinkles on my father’s tan skin. But before they could speak—or Elliot and I could string a coherent sentence from our lips—we were dragged backwards through dirt and grass toward our home. Time slowed to a trembling crawl. The only sound I could hear was from the commander as he condemned my parents to Hell, his eloquent voice reverberating like poison in my ears.

No. No. No.

They had already ransacked our room. Paper, clothes, and blankets lay strewn about the chipped wooden floorboards, and a smell—a smell of something other , something not of our family—seeped through the space. Elliot rushed to his bed and curled against the wall. He grabbed for his stuffed cow—usually tucked away from prying eyes—and held it near to his chest as tears spilled down his cheeks.

He must have forgotten to pack it .

Two men stationed themselves at our doorway, positioning their bodies so that they could see both inside the room and downstairs into the foyer. Their faces, partially covered by masks, appeared to lack emotion or a single distinguishing feature.

“Are we expected to sleep now?” I asked them, incredulous. I felt dizzy with something resembling amusement. Everything felt false. A distant, crazed vision never meant to last. “What will happen to our mother and father? When will they be cleansed by the Light Bringer?”

The legionnaires didn’t respond. I couldn’t tell if they even acknowledged my presence—their masks cast such dark shadows over their eyes.

“We will need elixir, first. Even if our parents are Corrupt, Elliot and I require it.” Words spun around in my mind, forming aimless, murky sentences—sentences I didn’t wish to bring into existence. And that word—Corrupt —tasted like bile on my tongue. “Your commander said that our fate wasn’t decided. We need the elixir. As is proper.”

More silence. They did not so much as twitch a muscle.

“I said—”

“No.”

The rough burst of sound startled me. “What?”

“You will not drink elixir, girl. It wouldn’t serve you, anyway.”

The strange feeling of amusement stopped, instead replaced by a vision of Elliot, Corrupt and rotting from within, dark marks running like wounds from his eyes.

“Where is your commander?”

The legionnaires were silent.

“Did you not hear me? He said our fate wasn’t decided. Where is your commander ?”

“Our lord is none of your concern,” the shorter of the two said.

“Your lord is very much of my concern—”

The taller legionnaire crossed his arms, clearly irritated. “Lord Mithras, our holy Light Bringer , decides when and where his concern is placed.”

“Even better,” I laughed. The sound felt unhinged in our destroyed bedroom, silent except for Elliot’s muffled cries.

Of course the commander would be the Light Bringer.

He rarely made himself known when performing Corruption rites, preferring instead for his legionnaires to bring the Corrupted directly to him. Because of this, I had never seen the Light Bringer in the flesh. Still, it seemed logical. Golden hair, a powerful presence, an army of devoted followers.

“He out of anyone would allow us to drink the elixir. You must allow it, or else—” Or else what? I’d throw them in the imaginary dungeons of Norhavellis? Cook them into a stew? Banish them from our property with the pointy end of a spade? “—or else I’m certain the Light Bringer will punish you.”

The shorter legionnaire leered at me. His beady eyes shone in the faint candlelight. “Our lord will do no such thing, as you do not even know him.”

Dark thoughts, once nameless and without force, rose to meet me. The Light Bringer would cleanse Mother and Father’s souls, but the process would destroy their mortal bodies. It was what happened to all Corrupt. Left unchecked, Corrupted men and women would commit unspeakable, violent crimes against their friends and neighbors.

Against their families, too.

But where would Elliot and I go? How would we survive in a village our family betrayed? The bitter truth laid itself bare: we had nowhere to go. How could we survive?

I sat next to my brother, wrapping my arms around his slight shoulders. He leaned away from me, burying his face in his hands. I stroked his hair, settling into what I hoped was a calming rhythm. It took all my focus to avoid looking at—or thinking about—the two sentries at our door.

If it was true—that Mother and Father were wholly Corrupt—then anything that happened to them wasn’t really hurting them . The woman and man that thrashed under the water, gasping for air as they nearly drowned, were just puppets filled with the shadow of a demon. Within the presence of the Light Bringer, their souls would travel somewhere else. Their true selves would be safe, held within the Maker’s light.

That’s what we’d been taught, at least.

But then there was me.

Was I not already on the path to Corruption? Were demons not roiling under my skin, waiting to take over my soul? I held Elliot tighter. This time, he didn’t resist, and he sank against me, sobbing into his elbow.

And that’s how we fell asleep—tired, scared, and more alone than we ever were before.